


Crooked soul

by Whrain



Category: Temeraire - Naomi Novik
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Angst, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Modern AU, Polyamorous Character, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, mentions of abuse, mentions of torture
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-18
Updated: 2020-05-18
Packaged: 2021-03-03 04:01:10
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,080
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24258580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Whrain/pseuds/Whrain
Summary: Tenzing Tharkay, John Granby and William Laurence are enjoying a domestic life in the states. Laurence is making sure no one burns the house down, Granby gets them to laugh and Tharkay does his best to keep this disaster family, they have found in one another, alive.Everything is bliss until Granby and Tharkay have to realize that there are certain things they have not been told about and Laurence suddenly running short on shallow graves to bury his past.
Relationships: John Granby & Iskierka, John Granby/William Laurence, John Granby/William Laurence/Tenzing Tharkay, Mianning/Gong Su, William Laurence & Temeraire, William Laurence/Tenzing Tharkay
Comments: 10
Kudos: 30





	1. But go on, kiss the best of me

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Shoutout to my pals in the Temeraire discord! Love you guys <3

The smell of sizzling bacon and freshly brewed coffee filled the air and the soft morning sun hit the counter just in the right angle to convince Laurence that it would be a startingly beautiful day.

And that Tharkay would probably stumble through their door in about ten minutes.

Shaking his head he set up another pan, rummaging their fridge for all the ingredients _oriental_ pancakes required.

Softly humming to himself he placed the milk bottle next to the sink, ducking to reach the bottom drawer where Tharkay, most likely, had hidden another package of Lychees from Granby.

He heard the crack of their ancient door handle and knew from the noisy entrance that it wasn’t Tharkay who entered their flat without a greeting. And since it wasn’t Tharkay, there were only two people left, who would consider the place enough of a home to intervene with his morning schedule in such a rude fashion. And only one of them would be up at such an hour.

“Morning Temeraire, pray tell, how may I be of service?”

"Well, I certainly wouldn't complain about breakfast. And since I scrolled through Instagram all morning, I know that you also have some deliciously looking cupcakes from your latest baking session". 

Laurence chuckled turning towards the teen with a fond smile, “As you wish, my dear. But I doubt that breakfast has brought you all the way here, considering that you could enjoy the cuisine of your cooking staff.”

“You should be honoured, Laurence. I value your pancakes above all substitutes for breakfast, even those prepared by dear Gong Su.”

“You got into a fight with Lien again, didn’t you?”

"Ugh, she got employed last week. Can you believe that? She has barely been out of college and already works for this grant law firm and she is so full of herself. Sneering at my notions of going into politics. Claiming that I should make up my mind first”, he pitched his voice to mimic, Laurence assumed, his cousin, “After all what good are mathematics to a politician?”

“I don’t see why you should refrain from indulging in what you enjoy as long as you remain just as devoted to your primary goals.”

“Thank you”, Temeraire sighed in an exasperated fashion eyeing the milk still resting untouched on the counter, “So? How long do you suppose the pancakes will take you?”

They passed the time, chatting about the domestic affairs in the Lung household. Temeraire informing him, that Chuan remained as dull as could be expected from someone, brought up to take over the family business. Mianning and Gong Su were still busy, scandalizing the older members of the family, with overly affectionate displays of their relationship, and Quian had extended an invite to Laurence for dinner.

"You have to come. Otherwise, it will be terribly dull and filled with Lien making underhand remarks I am not allowed to counter, for it would be impolite."

“I will question my schedule and consider informing Granby that he might prefer ordering pizza than setting the kitchen on fire… again.”

“I thought that was Iskierka”, Temeraire chuckled, his eyes widening as a thought came to him, “You could bring them! My mother certainly wouldn’t mind.”

“Next Saturday you said? I Granby has Iskierka over for the weekend”, Laurence ventured with a teasing smile, “She will have to tag along if I extend your invitation to Granby.”

It took all of Laurence's self-command not to laugh when Temeraire tried to deliver his answer without beaming, "Well, there certainly can't be anything done about it. So she might just as well come along and start a fight with Lien."

Another door was thrust open and Laurence looked up to discover a sleepy Granby rubbing his face walking towards them in his boxer shorts and one of Laurence t-shirt. They were supposed to go to the local charity but before Laurence could get rid of them, Granby had scavenged the boxes for everything with a print on it.

Currently, he was huddled in a worn shirt with the logo of the royal navy printed displayed on the left chest.

“Granby!”, Temeraire chirped, clearly delighted to see the other man before he had to leave. The boy had eaten two pancakes and a pair of cupcakes, so he was running out of excuses to hide at Laurence’s.

“How the two of you can be this cheerful at such an ungodly time is beyond me", Granby returned shuffling over to press a kiss on the top of Laurence's head before slumping on the chair next to him, “Will, feed me.”

Laurence chuckled already rising from his chair to get to the stove where another dozen or so pancakes were waiting for the household to find their way to the kitchen table.

“And a good morning to you, my cynamome.”

“Temeraire, let me give you a word of advice. Never fall in love with a history lecturer. They will come up with the worst endearments you can imagine.”

“Want me to go back, to calling you Tib?”, Laurence mused while placing the stuffed plate on the table.

“Why can’t you just call me something normal? Like darling or dear.”

“Because I’m dear”, Temeraire remarked, with the self-satisfied expression of a cat.

“Which is highly unfair since I have to deal with his muddles twenty-four-seven while you get to drop in whenever he’s making pancakes.”

"Already bickering on this early morning?", of course, no one had noticed Tharkay's entrance, Laurence found himself sometimes wondering wherever there was a secret door he hadn't discovered thus far.

“Certainly, your favourite topic, pet names.”

Tharkay snorted leaving his leather jacket on the hook next to the door, "I will shower and hope that you have moved on upon my return."

“Oh no, you won’t get off this cheaply. I still see bacon in that pan over there which means Laurence hasn’t eaten yet because he has been waiting on you. So you will sit down eat your pancake and tell our boyfriend why he can’t call me a cinnamon roll in front of his semi-adopted teenage son.”

“I’m not calling you a cinnamon roll. I’m calling you cynamome, which is…”

“The fancy pants English way of calling me a cutie I get it. Tharkay, sit down."

Tharkay ran a hand through his tousled hair before taking a seat next to Temeraire and therefor opposite Laurence, "He is a true terror in the morning isn't he."

“You have no idea, culver.”


	2. One secret six feet deep

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Therapy sessions and unsettling Emails

Laurence had never taken great pleasure in visiting therapists and while he had done so regularly during his service, he found himself disliking these visits even more after he had been dismissed.

Sitting in the grand open parlour, he had seen on the man’s homepage, he wondered what had persuaded him to choose Dr Celeritas as his therapist overseas. Granted the man had been recommended by his long-time therapist back in London, but usually, that would have been another reason not to come here of all places.

But his mother had become insistent on him attending sessions again and as far as Laurence could tell Celeritas would be as good a choice as any.

The man in question returned carrying two cups of tea on a wooden tray offering Laurence one of them.

“So I have been studying the files Doctor Pollitt has provided me with and I must congratulate you on the ground you have already covered before moving into the US. May I ask what has influenced your decision to take such a drastic step?”

“A job offer”, Laurence returned, bluntly ignoring the dozens of implications in this particular question.

_Couldn’t stand your family? Needed to get somewhere you had never been? Had to get away from your former friends and comrades?_

Laurence had been asked these questions before, oftentimes by the very people, who they concerned.

"I see. You are lecturing at Tarragon University?"

“Yes.”

Celeritas lifted a brow though more amused with his patient’s short answers than annoyed by it. Laurence begrudgingly admitted feeling some of the tension leave his body.

“History”, he volunteered.

“You take a keen interest in that?”

_Do you still care or are you to depressed to even enjoy your work?_

“Certainly overwise I would have stayed in Scotland.”

“Do you get homesick?”

“Not really.”

“But you left all your relations behind. Surely you must miss your family if not the country.”

“I have served overseas since my mid-twenties. I am used to not seeing my family for long periods of time.”

Celeritas gave a quick nod, apparently hoping Laurence would elaborate. When nothing more was said, he simply moved on to his next question finding nothing unusual in Laurence behaviour, though he himself had to admit that he might appear quite rude.

He just really didn’t want to be here.

“Can you tell me a little about your new living conditions? Are you living alone?”

Laurence had been worrying all morning about this specific question, perfectly aware that being unresponsive and outright lying to your therapist were two different things.

He wasn’t ashamed of the relationship he had formed, and he would not insult Granby or Tharkay by claiming they were nothing more than flatmates and friends.

Still, he was worried about the conclusion Celeritas might draw.

What it told about himself that after years upon years of avoiding any commitments he had finally found solace in an already established relationship between two men.

“I am living with my partners.”

Celeritas took note of the guarded tone in Laurence's voice but didn't react otherwise to the revelation.

“For how long?”

“I moved in three months ago.”

“You are comfortable?”

“Yes”, at least this he could say with honest sincerity.

“Very well. I will only ask you a few more questions regarding your former therapist’s advice and then you may tell me whatever you like, or we can end the session for this week. Is this agreeable to you?”

“Yes”

“So Doctor Pollitt has asked you to write diaries about your daily life and anything else that might come to mind. Are you still writing them?”

“Whenever I can.”

“Do they still sound like and I quote “notes for remarkably interesting modern history lessons”, Laurence couldn’t even blame the man for his lopsided smile, he found the expression surprisingly agreeable.

“I am no judge of literature.”

“Neither am I, still if you could bring them to our next sessions, I would be very obliged.”

“If it helps with my progress, I shall bring them.”

“Good”, Celeritas lowered the unopened folder of Laurence data onto his lap, “Anything you would like to talk about? We have still plenty of time left.”

“Not really.”

“That’s alright”, Celeritas returned with a small smile, “We are only getting to know each other and I rather see you comfortable while speaking to me, instead of prying for answers that would make you uncomfortable. Come Monday, at the same time?”

Laurence answered with a nod already on his feet to get himself right out the door. 

*

“You know where Laurence vanished to?”, Tharkay asked Granby, who was sitting in front of their shared computer, checking his Facebook messages.

“New student?”

“Hm? Oh no since they have predicted rainstorms for the upcoming weeks. I have cancelled all classes.”

“So you will stay on the couch, while Laurence and I get to walk through the rain to bring in the rent”, Tharkay remarked dryly.

"Looks like it. You too are already so fond of spoiling me I'm wondering why I even bother to go to work", Granby shot him a shit-eating grin and Tharkay made sure to kiss it from his lips.

“Laurence?”, he repeated, assured of Granby’s attention.

“He said something about an appointment, but nothing specific. If his expression was anything to go by, he wasn’t looking forward to whatever it is.”

"We could ponder all day about the things our peculiar boyfriend finds displeasing. But I suppose it's just as well, because a disgruntled Laurence…".

“…means cake”, Granby finished with a fond smile, “We will let him make us cupcakes and then bundle him up in a blanket and feed them to him till he’s giggling like an eight-year-old on a sugar shock.”

They shared a chuckle before, Granby managed to ask, “How did we end up like this.”

Tharkay flung an arm around Granby’s slim shoulders, “Don’t ask me. It was your idea to invite tall, blond and handsome over for a night and somehow we forgot to make him leave.”

"I for my part don't regret it. On the one hand, we regularly get decent meals on our table and on the other hand you can't deny that he is far more comfortable to lie on than any pillow."

"Laurence would be outraged to find you have reduced him to an accessory to our bed."

“I suppose he is also nice to have around.”

“He would be delighted to hear you hold him in such regard.”

“It’s enough if he drools all over the place with old fashioned endearments someone has to keep us from flying off on a pink cloud.”

“And that’s you?”, Tharkay mused, pocking Granby in the ribs, enjoying the way he squirmed. They nearly got into a tickling fight, which was one of those silly things Tharkay only allowed himself with a single pair of people, when a low ping announced an E-mail had arrived in the inbox.

Granby moved the mouse towards the icon, and the Email was open until anyone noticed the account didn’t belong to Granby.

Instead, the message was addressed to Laurence and the addresser’s email was enough to make them curious.

To: [william.laurence@british.navy.mil](mailto:william.laurence@british.navy.mil) (which definitely wasn’t the e-mail address Laurence usually used)

From: [james.pollitt@british.navy.med](mailto:james.pollitt@british.navy.med)

Subject: Catchup

Dear William,

I am glad to hear that you are well and have been able to settle in in the states. I am especially relieved to have been contacted by Dr Celeritas, who as far as I could tell from our correspondence is just as satisfied with your current progress as I am.

However, while I believe you in capable hands, I want to reassure you that you may contact me whenever you may require an open ear. I extent this invite as your friend and former colleague so do not hesitate to take advantage, of finding a therapist among your circle of friends. I promise to spare you the shrinking, if you in return, hold back on the sailor vocabulary when avoiding my questions.

I’m extending greetings from the guys and hope that you might be persuaded to answer any of their messages.

Greetings!

James Pollitt

“Maybe we shouldn’t…”, Granby started but by then Tharkay had taken possession of mouse and keyboard and was typing the name Celeritas into the google search bar.

The second link popping up, led them to the website of a therapist, with an office not even a fifteen-minute-walk from their flat.

“He didn’t take a taxi?”, Tharkay inquired seeing the discomfort in Granby’s eyes.

“No.”

Laurence never took a bloody taxi if he could walk to a location without sweating through his clothes.

“So, what are we thinking?”

“That Laurence told us, that he is ex-military and it’s not very surprising that he might frequent a therapist?”, Granby offered though he sounded rather doubtful.

“He isn’t very talkative about his time in the Navy? Like he tells us about ships and a handful of friends but not much about what he has been up to.”

“You sound suspicious. You think we have invited a special force agent to live under our roof?”

He was suspicious, though not in the way Granby might expect. Tharkay considered himself capable enough to figure out a man’s motivation and while it had been taken longer to figure out Laurence, he was pretty-sure that Laurence meant them no harm.  
Even if a part of him shudder at the realisation that he had ignored a big gab in Laurence résumé, simply trusting that the man was being honest with them. After all, Laurence usually was.

"What are you doing", Granby demanded, seeing Tharkay typing Laurence name and military rank.

“Why did we never google him? Isn’t that what you usually do when you start dating someone.”

“Probably if that someone wasn’t a polite, smiling beam of sunshine. What do you expect to find?”

“At the very least?”, Tharkay tried himself on a little humour, “Pictures of him in uniform.”

Which was basically the first thing that popped up. Graduation pictures, medals of honour. Dozens of pictures of Laurence, staring seriously in the camera looking like someone had stolen him right from the cover of a recruitment magazine.

“You think he has the uniform lying around somewhere?”, Granby inquired, mood clearly lightened by the fact that nothing sinister had appeared on the screen… so far. Tharkay had an odd feeling in his gut and when the scrollbar hit the bottom, he altered his search to the name of Laurence ship. _The HMS Reliant._

Laurence had captained her for approximately five years and while the ship had certainly seen some action, there were dozens upon dozens of articles spanning throughout the May of 2018. Articles making Tharkay shift in his chair and Granby simply gasp in horror.

“He said he has been discharged 2018, right?”

“Yes”, Granby stared at the first link, biting his bottom lip.

“Let’s have a look”, he said with an air that tried to convince Tharkay and most likely himself that the headline was exaggerated.

_British Navy Captain, captured and tortured by pirates._

_On the 23rd April of 2018 the HMS Reliant a specially equipped warship, took to the sea to hunt down a group of pirates frequenting the Somalian coastline.The ship under the order of her Captain followed the coastline when the crew received a call for help by a smaller vessel. The apparently French Amitie had been attacked by a local group of buccaneers._

_Under the circumstances and consideration of the panic that had broken loose aboard the smaller vessel, the Reliant's Captain, two of his officers six armed Marines, an engineer and one of the two ship medics set out to check on the Amitie and crew._

_What was supposed to be an easy rescue mission turned into a nightmare when the Amitie upon receiving the Reliant’s aid, was swarmed by boats coming in from the coastline. Pirates opened fire and when the Reliant send another crew to check, the wrack of the Amitie it was discovered that while most of the Amitie’s crew including the Reliant’s first responders had been killed in the shootout. The Reliant’s captain was missing._

_Assuming that the pirates had taken him hostage, a rescue party was organized, and the coastline swarmed with British as well as Somalian ships, while the military was searching the rural land, along the coast, for the pirate's hideout._

_After three days, the ships spotted a flare, that had been shot from a bay not far from where the Reliant’s captain had been abducted._

_He was seriously injured but could be stabilized aboard ship and is now being treated in a nearby hospital awaiting the doctor’s clearance to return home._

There were follow up articles, explaining that after his recovery, he had been able to mark the pirate hideout on a map. Pictures of the pirates and their camp during their capture.

Granby’s hand was covering his mouth and Tharkay realized that his own were shaking. None of those articles included a name, though neither of them had any doubt who they were writing about.

Nearly at the bottom of his search, he found an article by a British tabloid.

_War hero William Laurence returns to family estate_

It was a short article filled with pictures of crying relatives. Tharkay recognized two of the children from Laurence's lock screen, his nephews and nieces. He felt bile rise in his throat when he stumbled upon a picture of Laurence being embraced by what he assumed must be his mother.

He looked composed and was well-dressed, but the photographer had made sure to get the right angle so the bruises on Laurence's cheeks and the cast covering a great portion of his right arm were highlighted. 

_After nearly a decade of a prosperous military career. Lord Allendale’s youngest son, William, returns into the arms of his family. Weeks previous to this heart-wrenching moment, the Lord’s son, serving as a Captain in the British Navy, had been abducted by a group of pirates near the coast of Somalia where…_

Here the article lunged into a disgusting quantity of assumptions about the nature of the multitude of bruises covering Laurence.

Tharkay scrolled past them, vowing that he would not read them after he had managed to get Granby out of the way. He didn’t even dare to look at his boyfriend, dreading the expression he might wear.

_… the family has refused to give us an interview, asking the public for understanding, allowing William to rest and heal._

"Good God", Granby whispered and Tharkay chose to close the tab so they would at the very least only have to stare at the Email, which started all this.

“Why did he never tell us?”, Granby asked without expecting an answer. He knew it as well as Tharkay.

Laurence once had slipped in the bathtub a week or so after moving in. He had suffered a concussion but instead of telling Granby, who was listening to music in the master bedroom, or calling Tharkay so he could drive him, Laurence had walked to the bloody hospital.

Only for Tharkay to receive a frantic call from Granby, who being registered as Laurence emergency contact, had been called by the hospital previously.

Laurence answer to the question, why on earth he hadn’t told anyone, consisted of a confused expression and an apology that completely missed the point.

He had apologized for making them upset and that’s when Tharkay and Granby came to the conclusion that their boyfriend had not expected them to help. It hadn’t even brushed mind that they might want to.

Tharkay took possession of the mouse once more searching Laurence inbox for a certain name.

“What are you doing now. We should call him. Ask him to come home so we can talk about this.”

“Oh sure. Hey Will, get your ass over here we typed your name into the google search and found out you were abducted once, care to tell us about it?”

Granby looked at him doubtfully, “I can’t pretend that I haven’t seen this. The moment he comes through this door I… I don’t know. I just need to do… something.”

“I am aware. But he won’t be home for quite some time, since I just scrolled past an Email invite from Temeraire, regarding some speech he is giving in the universities junior Parliament program.”

"Okay, but what are you looking for?"

“Him”, Tharkay declared copying an Email address before logging out of Laurence’s account and opening his own.

He pasted the address into a new Email and began typing a short request to Captain Thomas Riley.

“You think he will answer that?”

Tharkay shrugged, “Laurence claims he is a good friend.”

“Yeah but... would you react to an Email of a guy claiming to be your military buddies worried boyfriend? You might just have outed Laurence to all his former associates.”

"At the very least it will get Riley interested. Now, what are we going to do when Laurence comes home?"

*

In a small restaurant on the other side of the Atlantic Ocean, Tom Riley was having a lovely dinner with a charming American air force Captain, when his phone vibrated in his pocket and he took a quick peek at the Email he had received.

He looked at the message, then at the redhead before him and made his excuses, already scrolling through his contacts to get to the right number. Dialling before pressing the phone to his ear, finding himself pacing through the men’s restroom like bloody Laurence used to do.

“Come on idiot pick up”, the phone rang once, twice, “Damn you, if you pick up right now, I won’t even tell you about the date you just ruined.”

Instead, his call ended with Laurence's voicemail. Cursing, Riley started typing.

Of all the times his friend could return from his self-inflicted exile in the states, it had to be this one. 


End file.
